White
by Mrs. Wilbur Robinson
Summary: Oneshot- Seventeen year old Cornelius Robinson is forced to wear only boardshorts for his upcoming college carnival. Poor boy.


**_A/N: Any other writers here in Yr 11? Yikes. Sucks to be me. For any 'Pregnant' fans out there...forgive me? I just have huge writers block concerning that story- I know what I want to do, but it can be terrrible putting it onto paper. Anywho, this story kinda came to me one lunchtime when my buddy Kyla was complaining about her white shoulders. Lol. Again, me no owny anyfingy, so dont sue. On with the show!_**

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Seventeen year old Cornelius Robinson stared dejectedly at his reflection in the dressing-room mirror. He was in the middle of yet _another_ university course, and this year, the students had wanted to hold a swimming carnival. Everyone had to be in at least 2 events, and Cornelius was no exception- despite being years younger than most of the other students. The carnival was in three days, and he had just spent the last 2 and a half hours being handed swimsuits and boardshorts by his beautiful fifteen year old girfriend, Franny, and his mother Lucille (oh-the-shame!).

Both women plus a salesperson were chatting not a meter from the other side of the door, and Cornelius grumpily reminded himself that he had asked Mildred years ago that he _wanted _to learn to swim. He did another look up-and-down of his body in the full-length dress mirror and blushed. Inwardly cursing himself for spending his whole life indoors, his _very_ white torso stood in stark contrast with his falming red cheeks. Unfortunately for Cornelius, his new brand of sunscreen (requested by Franny) completely removed the need for rashies. _If only I knew back then what I've got to do now..._he sighed.

Cornelius was taller than most boys his age, but also a whole heck of a lot skinnier. This created a whole new problem for the embarrased young man- every article of clothing the 3 women had passes over the cubicle door was much too large for his rather small waist. But if he asked for a smaller size, the shorts would show off _much_ more thigh than what Cornelius felt comforatble with- his legs were almost paler than his shoulders, if that were possible. His stressed thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful voice.

"Cornelius? Why don't you come out and show us what you have on?" His mother asked sweetly. Cornelius scoffed at the simple question and stared incredulously at the back of the door, as if his eyes could somehow bore straight though.

"_Show_ you?! It's going to be humiliating enough letting the whole college see my blindingly white chest from a distance of 10 meters! I'm not going to let _anyone _get a look at close quarters, thankyou very much!"

Lucille seemed to digest this as the man in question tripped out of another pair of shorts, and Franny sniggered behind her hand. He picked up the black-and-blue boardies he'd picked out (after an hour of fruitless searching), and slid them over his hips. Now holding up the edges so they didn't fall around his ankles, Cornelius grudgingly told the ladies his dilemma. There was a short pause as they all considered his options. He heard one of them snap her fingers decisively.

"My mum's a great seamstress, honey!" Franny's voice drifted over. "I'm sure she could tighten the elastic in minutes if I asked her nicely. What do you say?"

She paused as Cornelius struggled to find an argument against this. He glanced back at the mirror, and groaned pitifully as the reflection of his lanky frame offered no comfort. He sighed loud enough for the girls to hear and resignedly let the shorts he was wearing drop to his feet. Flinging them over the door, he mumbled almost incoherately,

"I'll take them."

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Franny smiled behind her sunglasses as she watched her dripping wet boyfriend haul himself from the swimming pool. He took his time, and her observant eyes took in every detail of his tall body. She couldn't hold back a grin as she noticed his hair, and she wondered absently how the blonde locks managed to stay upright, even when soaked to the roots. Franny held out Cornelius' glasses and towel to him as he approached her, face flushed, head bowed and arms wrapped around his chest protectively.

"Ugh," he mumbled, flopping into an adjacent deck chair.

"C'mon, it wasn't _that _bad," Franny said sympathetically.

"_Bad?! _I was doing freestyle for half of the race before I realised that we were supposed to be doing breastroke! And they didn't even bother to disqualify me because I was so far behind!"

Franny hid another grin. That _was _pretty funny. She decided that she should say something to the poor boy.

"...And it was some of the best freestyling I've seen in years."

Cornelius looked at her over his glasses, which didn't work quite as well when he was wrapped in a towel and water still dripped from the end of his long nose.

"Har-di-har-har. Everbody's a comedian."

Franny giggled and kissed his cheek impishly, making his blush deepen even further down his neck as he glanced around, hoping no-one was watching them.

"You had to come last in _something_, dear."

"A-huh. I just wish it didn't have to be in front of a couple thousand college kids, semi-naked."

Franny smiled at the sour expression on his face and sat in his lap, tracing his jaw line with a delicate finger.

"Oh, I found it _very_...enjoyable."

Cornelius grinned as he caught her meaning and slowly wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing the finger as it passed his lips.

"Glad someone did."

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